


Fate: The Lost Tale of Gilgamesh

by SandscriptTale



Series: Fate & Destiny [1]
Category: Fate/Grand Order, Fate/stay night & Related Fandoms, The Epic of Gilgamesh, Yu-Gi-Oh! - All Media Types, Yu-Gi-Oh! Duel Monsters (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Ancient Egypt, Ancient History, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Crossover Pairings, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, Gil basically becomes an exotic dancer, Gil has a lot to learn, Gil will definitely be a bottom in this one, Gilgamesh (Fate) Being Gilgamesh (Fate), M/M, Seto is just trying to be a good Pharaoh, empire conflicts, heavy plot and character growth, slowburn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-12
Updated: 2020-07-13
Packaged: 2021-03-01 04:34:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,494
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23119312
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SandscriptTale/pseuds/SandscriptTale
Summary: Enkidu is dead and Gilgamesh has failed to obtain the plant of immortality. Refusing to give up on his endeavor, Gilgamesh heads West, where a vision and rumors of a powerful new magic in a foreign land might lead him to what he seeks. As he joins a caravan in his journey to this new land, the King of Uruk sheds his royal status, and mingles among the traders and travelers under the guise of a simple commoner, where the arrogant king finds more than he bargained for. Yet even the harsh journey through the desert could not prepare him for what awaits him in Egypt, and the Pharaoh within it. Perhaps the treasure he sought, was not the one he expected. After all, while Enkidu made him human, it is Seto that will teach him to be a King. Prequel/Companion piece to Games of Destiny, but can be read as stand alone.
Relationships: Enkidu/Gilgamesh (Mesopotamian Mythology), Gilgamesh | Caster/Priest Seto
Series: Fate & Destiny [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1661797
Comments: 9
Kudos: 23





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Bahahaha. I did not plan on posting this so soon, but watching Absolute Demonic Front has been so inspiring that I can't help myself. Basically, this is the story of how Gil comes to become the respectable King that he is in Babylonia during the Babylonia singularity. All thanks to our Pharaoh Seto who took over Egypt after the reign of Atem and all that shenanigans.
> 
> Like summary says, it is the prequel to my other story Games of Destiny where Kise from KnB is the reincarnation of Gilgamesh but like, you don't have to read that monster fic to understand this one, it will only really affect the ending and I'll work around it, we shall see.
> 
> I'll be interested to see where this story leads me.
> 
> Note: In the Epic(which I will probably reference to often as part of Gil's backstory), Siduri was actually a tavern keeper, I decided to keep her as such for this fic even if I really loved her part in Demonic Front, especially with Enkidu.

* * *

_"I do not wish to die in these chambers... please... I want to see the sea... one more time... take me to perish among the elements... where I belong.”_

_“This heart that I have gained... is worth the pain it feels now...”_

_"Why do you do nothing? Am I really to die in this manner? So shamefully?”_

_“I am merely a tool... you have many more treasures yet to attain.”_

_“I do not wish to die! Please...”_

_“Why do you shed tears... King of_ _Uruk_ _? This sadness does not suit you.”_

_“Curse you Gilgamesh... curse you King of_ _Uruk_ _. Curse you and all those that led to this existence!”_

_“Farewell... my friend.”_

* * *

Gilgamesh woke with a gasp, sweat coating his forehead, and as he ran his hand through his long blonde hair, he grimaced when he noted that it was also damp with sweat. 

Despite the sweat coating his body, the thin blanket covering him did little to bring him warmth as he shivered from the chills that had wracked his body since the previous night. 

He hardly remembered the previous night. He had already been feverish by then, followed his instincts more than reason as he found himself returning to the tavern that he had stumbled upon on his journey to find immortality. Only to lose the damn plant to that snake. 

Not that he had fully believed Utnapishtim to begin with... then again... the snake _had_ indeed shed its skin and become young again. 

He had of course refused the ferryman’s offer to bring him to Uruk. If Utnapishtim thought he was giving up so easily, he was sadly mistaken. He may have failed his tasks, but it did not mean that Utnapishtim was the only one he could turn to. The world was far too big for that. 

Still, he tired of travelling through the wilderness... he tired of sleeping on the cold hard ground... tired of it all. It was too easy to feel their absence... to feel the empty space that Enkidu no longer filled. 

How long had it been now... since that day? 

Not that it mattered. 

For the first time, Gilgamesh noticed a clay pot full of water in the table beside his bed, and with a dry throat, grabbed ahold of it and downed it all in greedy gulps. 

It did little to abate his fever, but it did soothe the dryness of his throat. 

With a frown, he laid back down onto the bed. 

He did not wish to sleep, even if his body felt heavy and fatigued. The dreams that plagued him far too vivid when he did. 

Hours passed, and the door to the bedchamber was opened, the creaking of its hinges breaking him from his thoughts as his gaze darted to the sound. 

He was met with the familiar face of the woman that was also the tavern keeper of this place. 

“How does his highness fair?” 

Gilgamesh frowned. 

“Dreadfully. Sickness does not suit me. If I am to die from this, the Gods themselves might die from laughter.” 

Siduri had the audacity to laugh. 

“I believe if the Gods wanted you dead, you certainly would be.” 

Now Gilgamesh sent the woman a heated glare. 

“Nonsense. The only reason I live is because I have defied the Gods time and time again. Believe me, they have certainly done their best to do away with me.” 

“Such is your kingly authority,” Siduri mocked. 

“Woman, bring me more water, cease your babbling.” 

The brunette woman did not seem intimidated in the least bit, and while it did not please him, he was far too fatigued to voice his displeasure. 

“Very well, my liege, I will send someone to tend to you.” 

The tone of her voice caused him to scoff. 

“One day I will either kill you or make you my advisor, Siduri.” 

The woman made a sound of contemplation, before the door closed behind her. 

* * *

It took another day for his fever to break, and another for him to recover his strength. 

He had requested Siduri to bring him a new set of clothes as he made to depart to his next destination, and it was into the brown pants and top that he changed to. After all, he had requested a commoner’s outfit, since his plans did not include going back to Uruk or the wilderness. 

His hair had remained long from his trip to Utnapishtim, and it was that which Siduri was currently cutting as Gilgamesh sat in a chair with a glass of his favorite wine. 

“Then, if you are not to return to Uruk, where is it you intend to go?” 

Gilgamesh swirled the red wine around the glass, before taking a drink. 

He contemplated if he should even bother to answer the brown-haired woman. Not that there was anyone that would dare to challenge his decision, but a part of him wished to simply disappear, with no one having knowledge of his location where they might seek him out. 

Still… was there truly any harm in it? 

“I had a vision last night. I saw a desert landscape, and in the distance, a large pyramid. I have only heard the stories of the structures of Egypt. Therefore… something tells me that is my next destination. Perhaps what I seek lies there.” 

The snipping sounds of the shears against his hair continued to sound behind him, his hair slowly becoming lighter as strands of it fell to the ground softly. 

“Are you certain immortality is what you seek? Does it not seem… lonely?” 

Gilgamesh frowned at Siduri’s words, his grasp on the chalice tightening imperceptibly as green hair and green-blue eyes flashed through his thoughts. 

“Whatever do you mean? Immortality simply means I will never be denied the pleasures of life, it means I may continue to collect every treasure there ever has been and ever will be. It means I can do as I forever please. Whether it means waging war… or destroying every god that has ever existed.” 

“That may be so… but the inability to die does not guarantee you happiness. If you live forever… you will only experience loss again and again. When you grow to love others, they will eventually perish. Does the thought not pain you?” 

Gilgamesh scoffed. 

“Love? Do not be foolish Siduri. Love _is_ pain. I want nothing to do with it. I want only power, and pleasure. All else is absurd.” 

“Are you certain the Gods blessed you with wisdom?” 

“Do you wish to die, woman?” 

Siduri laughed softly. 

“Forgive me… it simply appears to me that your view of life is awfully narrow.” 

Gilgamesh scoffed. 

“Or perhaps it is because of that wisdom bestowed upon me that I know the only things worth seeking is pleasure and power.” 

Now Siduri was running her hands through his hair, shaking out the loose strands, the sensation pleasant against his scalp. 

“Hm… perhaps. Then… I guess there is no convincing you to return to your kingdom, is there?” 

Gilgamesh frowned. 

“I refuse to return to my kingdom empty-handed. If I am to continue being King, it will be an immortal King. No mortal, beast, or God will ever be able to take my life.” 

“Then, it seems fitting that I share with you the latest rumors some travelers have spoken of.” 

Now Gilgamesh was intrigued. 

“Oh?” 

“Traders have spoken of events revolving around Egypt as of late. It seems Egypt has come upon some new and strange magic. It has made the surrounding lands uneasy and weary of the land. Not much is known… but the supposed magic was strong enough to affect entire villages, with some saying that all that inhabited them perished overnight.” 

Gilgamesh felt a smirk play on his lips, the familiar trill of excitement filling his chest as he took another drink of his wine. 

“An unknown new magic you say? Well, that certainly sounds interesting. Perhaps this magic can shed some light on immortality… and how to attain it.” 

Siduri put down the sheers on the table nearby, only to grab the hand-held mirror on it. 

“And what if immortality is not there to be found?” she asked, walking in front of him and holding the mirror before him. 

Gilgamesh was met with his reflection, a smirk on his lips as his red eyes took in the new and shortened locks that reminded him of the reflection he had left behind in Uruk, before the death of his friend, and before his promise. 

“Then, it will simply be another adventure to be had. Perhaps I shall even find a new treasure or two in the land of the Pharaohs.” 


	2. I

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm a huge geek when it comes to ancient civilizations so of course I had to do my research on daily life and customs and all that jazz. Bear with me as I set the scene, it's actually a bit difficult to do this in a way I can be proud of without the political stuff. After all, this is a tale of Kings, and you can't tell the tale of a King without plenty of political endeavors and such.

* * *

Gilgamesh had decided two things as he set out for his next destination.

One; he would first need to make his way to the Sumerian city of Mari. As a major trading hub at the northern aspect of Sumer, it would be the perfect location to gather information and the supplies he would need for his long journey to Egypt.

Two; he would tell no one of his identity as King of Uruk.

Had he not undergone the journey that he had to obtain the plant of immortality; Gilgamesh would have thought it ridiculous to be anything but the King he had always been. And while he had failed to obtain immortality, the loss of his dearest friend and the journey itself taught him something his unfathomable wisdom never had.

It was that lesson that left Gilgamesh craving something that his absolute strength and wisdom would not give him, let alone the status that came with being a King.

It was a lesson he dared not say aloud, even in his own thoughts, lest he admit to a weakness that only came with being human.

Gilgamesh sighed as his gaze strayed to the sun overhead as a bead of sweat traveled down the side of his face. He had thought after traveling through the underworld itself, that making his way to the other side of the country would be an easy feat in comparison. Apparently, that was not to be so.

He had traveled for seven days already, with many more to go. Siduri had given him enough food to last for exactly five days, and he had made do by foraging and hunting as he had learned to do. Part of him thought it best if he stopped by the next city-state for a more comfortable rest, yet another part of him refused to take any unnecessary detours. The faster he could get to Mari, the better.

To enter a city-state would mean that he would have to pay a tax for the city’s respective King, and Gilgamesh had no interest in parting with any of his treasures for a King he could care less for. Unfortunately, that was the consequence of refusing to use his authority as King. The best course of action was to avoid as many people and the city’s soldiers as he made his way to the destination, which also meant avoiding the easiest route to Mari; the Euphrates River.

This was what led him to decide he would have to make most of the trip by land, and only the final stretch of the trip could he use the ease of the river.

Thankfully, after night had fallen and he had a reprieve from the heat of the sun, he caught sight of a flickering light in the distance. It could be nothing but the light of a fire or lantern from a farm, which Gilgamesh chose to approach. Once close enough, Gilgamesh could indeed see that the light came from the small home where the family that manned the small farm was likely retiring to.

He approached the barn that housed the animals, and he was pleased to find that indeed the farmer of this abode owned a mule.

He tired of walking on his own feet, and it was time for a new mode of transportation.

As he quietly led the mule out of its confines and grabbed the harness and rope through the dimly lit barn, Gilgamesh made sure to leave behind some gold coins where the mule used to be, more than enough for the family to buy five new mules or even a horse if they wanted.

After all, he might be a lot of things, but a thief he was not.

* * *

It took another two and a half weeks to reach the point where he could take the Euphrates River for the rest of the trip. Along the way he had come across other fellow travelers, and after telling them of his plans, and after they gave him a look that seemed to say he was an idiot, they pointed him in the direction of a supposedly trustworthy ferry-man that went to Mari often.

It seemed that the people of Sumer were all inter-connected, despite the many cities and towns that they could hail from. After all, they were a culture of trading, and to trade meant to come into contact many people and face many dangers in the process. It was better to form connections and know the who, what, and where of daily life.

He also had to evade soldiers in search of riches and slaves, and dealt with more than a handful of thieves along the way, each of which were the least of his concerns, and a welcomed form of entertainment in an otherwise tedious journey.

And although many a times he had considered turning around and returning to the familiarity of being the King of Uruk, something much stronger drew him away from the short-lived thought as he continued the trek north. Not to mention, it was not the most unpleasant of things, when he came across other travelers. Although weary of him at first, it didn’t take long for him to charm himself into their good graces, and most travelers were more than happy to indulge his questions, although they wanted to know just as much about him.

It forced him to fabricate a fake persona, of which he was quite pleased with, and to which he answered the ferry-man’s question.

“Ah, a former soldier you say?”

The man was old, with gray hair that reached his shoulders under a green hat, missing several teeth in his mouth, and wearing a traditional outfit he recognized from other travelers from Idu. His boat was small, only big enough for five people at most, but he was its only passenger besides its owner and the younger boy helping him steer and row.

“That is correct. I was a soldier to the King of Uruk, but duty has called me to a change of scenery.”

The older man, whose name was Ilgi, made a sound of contemplation.

“Uruk… there have been interesting rumors of Uruk. They say the King has left on a journey, and has yet to return. Do you know of that?”

Gilgamesh only grinned.

“It would be imprudent of me to not know the state of my own city. Fret not, Ilgi, Uruk is always in good hands. Our King would not leave his city in disarray, journey or not. Rest assured, Uruk will continue to be protected and in the best of hands whether your rumors are true or not.”

After all, Gilgamesh had made sure, even while overcome with grief, that Uruk would be safe before he left. He had left his most trusted generals and advisors in charge, and left them with plenty of defensive tools and treasures to use in the case that any neighboring powers would grow so bold as to use the news of his absence to attack his city. He was confident in his city to stand strong, even without him. Uruk wasn’t so fragile as to fall before his return.

Nevertheless, he would rather not fuel rumors if it could be helped. The more people believed it to be more rumor than truth, the better.

Ilgi chuckled as he continued to maneuver his boat down the river. It was shortly after noon, and they had set out early in the morning from Idu. As expected, the Euphrates River was lively and full of boats making their way to their own destinations. Since the rivers that spread across Babylonia were the preferred form of travel for those who could afford its tolls, and connected major cities, it was a focal point of movement and trade.

Merchants called out to other merchant in other boats, laughing and shouting good-naturedly as they passed each other. The voices and sounds of all the activity melded together and created a lively scene, and it transfixed Gilgamesh as he looked over the body of water that made Babylonia the grand land that it was.

Each of these people led such mundane lives, worked hard to attain a semblance of civilization and worth. Many of them would not live for very long, yet many of them would bear children that would carry on their legacy. They were but a blink in time, and many of these people would never be known to humanity only a few lifetimes from now.

“You look pensive. Any wisdom you would like to share with an old man? It is a long journey yet to Anat, conversation is a good way to pass the time.”

Gilgamesh frowned.

“Should it not be you sharing wisdom with me, old man? Am I not but a child in comparison?”

Ilgi guffawed, his shoulders shaking from the loud sound.

“Normally I would agree. However… your eyes tell me otherwise. I have met many a young man around your age, yet none have ever had the look that you have in your eyes. Your eyes alone speak of wisdom even men my age and older to not possess, so a child you are not.”

Had Gilgamesh not made it his personal mission to maintain his identity a secret, he would have berated the old man on his insolence. He dare presume to know him? How conceited.

Instead, Gilgamesh merely huffed.

“I have no wisdom to share, but I do have a question to entertain you with.”

Ilgi did not answer, merely waited for the question to follow. Gilgamesh did not offer it right away, taking another once over at the boats and people around him.

“You are old Ilgi. When you look back on your life, what comes to mind? Do you feel you have fulfilled your purpose as a human being?”

Ilgi hummed, and Gilgamesh watched out of the corner of his eye as the older man looked up at the sky and the clouds that littered the blue expanse.

“I am afraid you are asking a question even the greatest philosophers have failed to answer. Personally, I do not believe we humans have any particular purpose, other than to live. We live, and breath, and work to live another day. We have a good ale at any moment we can and the warmth of a woman. We breed, and make sure we have someone to carry on the blood if we are lucky.”

Gilgamesh sighed.

“What a boring and predictable answer.”

Ilgi guffawed again, and the sound caused Gilgamesh’s lips to quirk up ever so slightly.

“That may be so. And yet… looking back on my life, I cannot find anything to be dissatisfied about. I had a beautiful wife, may she rest in peace, and two sons grown and doing well for themselves with their own families. I visit them when I can, and my grandchildren bring more joy to my life than anything else. I was not born with much, but through honest work, I was able to give more to my family. My sons tell me to give up my ferry business and live with them, and even if I only get older, and my body is no longer what it once was, I still cannot seem to want to give it up. I enjoy this life, I enjoy the stories that I hear from those who have sat where you now sit. There have also been dark and crushing times of course, and yet, those bonds we form shine brighter than anything else, they make this life worth living.”

Gilgamesh clenched his fist and closed his eyes, the image he could never shake once more flashing through his mind of green hair and blue-green eyes.

_Bonds…_

A wry grin formed on his lips.

Did a King have the luxury of forming such bonds? Something that could be mutually formed instead of simply taken?

He had thought so, once. He had thought he could finally have a friend.

And yet, fate had said it was not to be so.

How humorous.

* * *

**Memphis, Egypt**

“My Pharaoh, I have a report.”

Pharaoh Seto looked away from the papyrus in his hand to the man that was on one knee and looking at the ground in one of the many court rooms in the palace. It had been almost two years since he came into power as the Pharaoh of Egypt, and although the clothing he wore was not very different from his robes as High Priest, he could not say that he was used to being referred to as Pharaoh.

“What is it, Arash?”

At the sound of his name, the high-ranking soldier looked up from the ground to meet his gaze. He wore the traditional wrap around belted skirt around his waist, and the cloth headwrap. His skin was tan from the exposure of the sun, and Seto knew that underneath lay dark brown hair.

“It is as you said, the tribes to the south of the Nubian desert have been gathering and have began to build a great fortress. My scouts say they have named themselves ‘ _Kushites’_.”

Seto frowned.

“I see. This is excellent information. Well done, Arash.”

Arash nodded, but his face looked stony as he remained on the ground, which told Seto that he wished to speak, but lacked the fortitude to do so.

“Speak your thoughts, Arash. You are my most trusted soldier, if you have doubts, I would like to hear them.”

Arash’s eyes widened, and he once more lowered his gaze.

“My Pharaoh, should we not take caution? Our southern border is our least fortified, and if this new nation is to pose a threat, we will be pressed to move our forces.”

Seto did not look concerned, and once more grabbed the papyrus he had been occupying himself with.

“I will say this to you because I know you can be trusted, and I hope that as with all that you have been doing, you will heed my words.”

Arash looked up once more, his gaze more focused and steady as he nodded.

“There is no need to concern ourselves with the Kushite. As you have noted, the south is less fortified, and for a reason. Our true enemy lies to the northwest. The _Tjemehu_ are our true and greatest threat, and while we have been rebuilding Egypt, they have only become stronger. We cannot afford to fight two fronts, not when we have only recently began to recover from the famine that killed many of our people. What must be done instead, is to make allies of this new nation. Remember, the land south of our border is rich in resources we will need. Let us help this new nation build their empire and do the work, so that in return, they will happily trade their boon with us as thanks for the help and protection we will provide.”

Despite the confidence and logic behind his words, Arash did not look completely appeased.

“But my Pharaoh… how can we provide aid when we ourselves are short of the manpower we need?”

There was a moment of silence.

“Do not be concerned, I have already made the appropriate preparations. Egypt will prosper, of that there is no doubt.”

Arash smiled.

“Of course, my Pharaoh. I have the utmost trust and respect in your judgement. You have proved your prowess to Egypt time and time again, and we are all proud to serve you.”

* * *

**Mari, Mesopotamia**

“You want to head to Egypt? That is quite a trip to embark on. What is your reason?”

Gilgamesh had finally reached his first major destination, and now that he was within the city of Mari, and after a night of comfortable rest, he had visited the market for a few essentials, and was now drinking some of Mari’s local ale in a lively tavern.

“Does it matter? I asked for information, not an interrogation.”

The two drinking companions he had chosen to sit with shared a look, before grinning. Leave it to ale to loosen up two burly men.

“It matters because it should be a reason worth risking your life for.”

Gilgamesh narrowed his eyes.

“Crossing the dessert is not for the weak of heart. You will need plenty of supplies, preferably a camel, and if you are thinking of going alone, you might as well ask for death itself.”

Gilgamesh smirked.

“I am not easily killed.”

One of the men laughed.

“Spoken like a true fool.”

The smirk on Gilgamesh’s lips did not falter.

“I could kill you for that.”

The other man placed a hand on the one that dared to call him a fool, but with an easy smile on his lips.

“Be careful Manu, something tells me he really could.”

The one named Manu shrugged, before taking a deep gulp of his ale.

“He does have a point. The desert is harsh on travelers, it is easy to get lost during a desert storm, and losing your way means death is assured. If you do not die of hunger or thirst first, there is always the chance you will die from the heat alone, and your body will be eaten by the desert animals. There are also bandits and thieves on the prowl who know the desert well, and they do not care how much or how little you have. Not to mention, you have a pretty face and distinct features. They would no doubt capture you to sell you off as a slave, you would fetch a high price.”

Gilgamesh laughed at the comment. He had never been called pretty to his face before. The perks of not being known as a King he quickly found, is that people did not censor themselves around him. It was an amusing perk indeed.

“I guess I should be flattered to hear that, but I cannot imagine I would make a very good slave.”

“You mean to say even after hearing all that, you still want to go?” Manu asked, a look of disappointment on his face as he saw that he had finished his ale, only for Gilgamesh to motion to the server girl to refill his cup as she passed by.

Manu’s face brightened, since the reason they had agreed to give him information was because drinks were on him.

“Nothing you say will dissuade me, let that be clear. I have every intention to make the journey, but you will improve my chances of success by telling me the best way to do so.”

The man that had introduced himself as Ukto sighed.

“Well, since you are so determined… the best course I can give you is to head to Qatna first. You will want to hire a guide, but most guides will not take a single traveler unless you make it worth their time. If you are lucky, you might be just in time to join a Caravan. Caravan’s offer the best chance of survival in a harsh journey through the desert, and many of those leading them are familiar with the terrain. They serve as better protection against bandits, and usually the wealthier merchants have swords for hire to protect them against them. Lucky for you, Caravans have been more common as of late. It seems Egypt has become prevalent enough that more countries wish to establish trade, despite the harsh journey. Many refugees from war torn lands have also been seeking sanctuary in the country. They say the new Pharaoh is quite capable and reasonable, giving land and work to those in desperate need of it.”

Gilgamesh made a sound of contemplation.

“New Pharaoh you say… I did not know Egypt had changed hands recently.”

The two men blinked.

“Oh… you do not know of the recent events in Egypt? And yet you plan to go there?”

Gilgamesh narrowed his eyes, giving the men a pointed look.

“I am afraid I have been otherwise occupied until recently. Please, enlighten me.”

“Very well, two years ago, the previous Pharaoh, Aknamkanon passed away and passed the throne to his son, Atem. Not long after however, there was a coup by Aknamkanon’s younger brother, Aknadin, who wanted _his_ son, Seto, on the throne. No one knows the details, but during the power struggle, the Pharaoh Atem lost his life, and Seto rose in his stead. The rest of Egypt was divided after that, with many thinking their new Pharaoh did not deserve the throne in the manner that it was claimed. Then things turned for the worst, and Egypt was hit by a famine. Many blamed the new Pharaoh, claimed that the Gods did not favor him and the reason why their crops failed and their people starved. Instead of stepping down, the new Pharaoh was able to turn things around, and the people rose out of the famine stronger than ever, and the Pharaoh became widely favored as he unified the people one more. Since then, he has worked to rebuild Egypt to its former glory, and those that have come back from seeing it with their own eyes say that it is indeed flourishing.”

Gilgamesh took a drink from his cup and savored the taste before speaking.

“And what do you know of Egypt's so-called magic?”

The two men seemed surprised, and shared another look, before turning back to him.

“It is only rumors… but it is said that the Pharaoh’s success lies within an acquired magic. They say it is magic that killed the previous Pharaoh, and that it is that same magic that saved the land from famine, although at the cost of human lives. Many don’t fully trust it, but many more choose to rely on it. Better to have a Pharaoh with that kind of power on their side, than against them, is their logic. As for how true it is, only the Gods know.”

Gilgamesh smirked as he set down his now empty cup, his mind quickly absorbing the new information.

“I see… it seems I did well in choosing you both as my informants.”

The next thing the two men saw, was Gilgamesh tossing a pouch onto the table, which made a resounding clanging noise from the coins that no doubt were housed inside. Manu did not hesitate to reach for the pouch, and opened it, his eyes widening and his jaw going slack as he took in its contents. It was not a small pouch by any means, and it was filled to the brim with gold coins. Seeing the shocked expression, Ukto leaned over to take a look, and his own eyes widened.

Gilgamesh’s smirk only widened as he rose from his seat and raised a hand dismissably as he made to turn around.

“Keep the change, drink to your heart’s content. Rest assured; you have just made my journey all the more interesting.”

As the mysterious man left as discreetly as he had come, the two men left behind were left speechless.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soo I really want to bring in minor fate characters. I figure it will be more fun instead of making a bunch of OC's and since the whole concept of this series is about reincarnation and what not, it wouldn't be too far-fetched to just claim "a previous life" of such and such, right?
> 
> I need female dancers, some merchants(of the arrogant kind), some swords for hire, and other miscellaneous roles for the Caravan. 
> 
> I think Cu and Arash for sure would be a fun dynamic with Gil, Tamamo, Kiyohime, and Shuten as dancers maybe, Assassin of Shinjuku as a sword for hire. Who would you guys like to see and what role? Let me know! :)


	3. II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A journey is best taken with companions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait, my muse has been all over the place but finally here we go!

His arrival at Qatna was underwhelming, to say the least. Rather than feel a sense of accomplishment, Gilgamesh only grew more restless.

He had been travelling for weeks, and his true destination was still a considerable distance away, across undesirable conditions. The climate had only growing drier the closer he got to Qatna, and although he had somewhat grown accustomed to traveling with a lack of luxury, he was beginning to miss its comforts.

Still, his determination remained firm, and the shadows of the past that still tinged what he left behind kept him moving forward, all the while refusing to look back.

Although not as impressive as Uruk, Qatna had expanded as of late. As one of the major traveling hotspots to the west, trading happened often with those that would set out to Egypt, and more and more traders had settled in the slowly expanding city as a result.

It was why when Gilgamesh arrived as the sun was beginning to set, he could hear the bustling of the city even from its outskirts. He checked into the most decent tavern he could find, and joined the merry common folk for an ale.

He gathered the information he needed, and to his great disappointment, it seemed that he had just missed a caravan a few days prior, and was told that another should arrive within a week.

With his patience growing thin, Gilgamesh did not want to wait another week, but the wisdom he still harbored meant that he knew it would be foolish to embark across the desert on his own. Although he was more than capable of handling himself and any petty bandits and wild animals, it would simply be wiser to travel in numbers to make the trek more comfortable.

As tired as he was, he doubted even he could brave the desert without pushing himself to his limits, and he rather not arrive at Egypt half-dead before finding the answers he sought. There was no telling what he would encounter in the foreign lands, and considering the tales that he had heard, it was best that he conserve his strength for the trials to come.

And so, when a caravan finally arrived on the fourth day after his arrival at Qatna, Gilgamesh congratulated himself on the self-control and patience he had shown while in the trade city. Even if he had almost beheaded a peasant or two for their insolence...

The caravan arrived as the sun was beginning to set, and Gilgamesh easily accounted about thirty to forty people from his place on the tavern’s rooftop as he surveyed the entering crowd. He knows that the soonest the caravan would set out would be the following day, but he would not be surprised if the group decided to rest and trade what they could here before setting out again.

And while waiting another day was the last thing that Gilgamesh wanted to do, it did give him time to decide what group to join.

After all, he understood that even within a caravan there was a hierarchy.

Even now, as he watched the members reach the inns, he could see the wealthy merchants surrounded by their swords for hire and their wagons protected by even more.

While he could certainly offer his strength to such a man, the idea does not particularly appeal to him. Certainly, he has been enjoying keeping his identity a secret, but the King in him that remains refuses to demean himself to serving someone else... someone that does not even warrant his protection.

Servitude...

Protection...

The words cause something to stir in the pit of his stomach as a memory comes to mind. Even in his mind’s eye, Enkidu’s hair and eyes are as vibrant as if he had seen them yesterday.

_“Why did you decide that you would defeat that Divine Beast? Though it did devastate your Uruk, you did not do it for your people, did you?”_

_The moon is full above them as Enkidu stands behind him. He has chosen to stand atop the Ziggurat as he overlooks Uruk from high above. He watches the lights of the torches dance below along with the merriment of the people gathered in celebration._

_His voice is firm yet almost gentle as he answers._

_“No, it truly was to save Uruk. If I do not defeat the evil residing on Earth, my people will starve to death.”_

_“But, why you?”_

_He turns his upper body to better look at Enkidu’s figure. They have that blank look that they often do on their face, even if their question speaks of curiosity._

_“Whatever do you mean?”_

_Enkidu answers easily._

_“Your tyranny has caused much suffering for your people. So why do you worry for them despite it?”_

_He smiles as he replies._

_“Protecting them is not the only way to guard them. At times, you require something like the northern wind. It is the duty of the king to establish the future of this planet.”_

_His eyes close and open only to reveal a playful mirth in his red eyes, before he turns back to look at the view before him._

_“The duty of the king?”_

_For the first time, the tone in Enkidu’s voice changes, one that speaks of bewilderment._

_“That is correct. I am the king! I live as the king! Since I have decided as such, I shall play along with humans, with the future of humans. Until the very end of the world.”_

_Enkidu lets out something not unlike a huff of frustration._

_“Why do you not tell those words to the people? At the rate you are going, not one person will understand you. You shall be all alone to the very end.”_

A wry smile forms on his lips as gaze lowers.

Had that truly been him? He could hardly relate to that man that had spoken with such conviction. That man that seemed to think he could do no wrong, who believed his power to be absolute, who believed himself to be invincible.

What had his actions led him to?

Indeed...even if he had been able to protect his people... in turn... he had lost the only being that he could call a friend. The only being that might have been capable of understanding him. The one that made him forget what loneliness was.

“Perhaps you were correct, Enkidu...”

His fists unconsciously clench as he looks up at the darkening sky, the movements of the caravan below him momentarily forgotten.

“Perhaps I am truly destined to be alone until the very end... bereft of anyone that can understand me.”

* * *

**Memphis, Egypt**

Seto’s calculative gaze flittered across the papyrus with purpose, his mind quickly absorbing the information and organizing it while saving the most important information contained within it. Having managed to improve the agriculture demands to ensure a proper harvest, it was important to maintain and improve the systems that he had put in place. The expansion of the irrigation canals had indeed done their task in increasing the quantity and quality of available lands, and it was important to maintain their integrity.

According to these reports, most canals seemed to be well taken care of... but perhaps he should think about replacing the farmers of the ones that were not up to his standard...

“My Pharaoh...”

The familiar voice tears him from his thoughts as he turns his gaze to the figure of a white-clad woman.

“Isis,” he greets, “Does something require my attention?”

A smile forms on Isis’ lips, and Seto recognizes the sympathy within her blue eyes.

“Not currently, I merely came to ask if you wish to join me in prayer. It might ease your mind somewhat.”

Seto frowns and turns his attention back to the papyrus on the table before him in defiance.

“Does my mind seem troubled to you?” he asks.

Isis steps closer, so that she is standing beside him now.

“You have been working tirelessly, my Pharaoh. I speak for myself and all of Egypt when I say that we are grateful for your efforts and dedication. Truly, we would not be here without you.”

Seto’s frown only deepens at Isis’ gentle words, and having known the woman for years, knows that she will say more, and holds his reply.

“However, even the sharpest minds require temporary reprieve, and as a previous High Priest, I am sure you would benefit from the comfort of prayer. After all, as Pharaoh, you must also maintain a strong relationship with the Gods in order to retain their favor.”

Isis’ smile widens when she sees Seto visibly relax, and the audible sigh further reassures her that her words made their mark.

Seto cannot deny that Isis has a point, and although he does not need someone to fret over him, he appreciates the gesture. After all, he has had a long day, and it is true he cannot make the best possible decisions on a fatigued mind.

“Very well, I shall join you.”

Seto turns away from the table, and Isis nods as she turns and leads the way in the direction of the temple. The temple is adjacent to the palace, and as they exit into the nighttime air, Seto resists the urge to shiver from the cool breeze that caresses his skin. Thankfully, the coolness of the air has the added benefit of making him feel slightly more awake.

As he spares a glance at Isis’ peaceful figure, he cannot help but think on their recent past as he tends to do when they are in each other’s company. He has known Isis for most of his life since they both trained to be spiritual leaders from a young age. Then, when the millennium items were created, they became companions along with all those that belonged to the Sacred Guardians. And out of all the Guardians, only he and Isis were left after the events that led to the sealing of Zorc and the Pharaoh’s spirit.

No matter how many years passed, the memories remained vivid in his mind, as did the promise he made to Atem.

“How do things fair with the new disciples?” he asks.

Isis lets out a soft rumble of laughter.

“You truly should learn what it means to give your mind reprieve.”

Seto scoffs.

“I am the Pharaoh of Egypt, it is impossible to stop thinking about all that needs to be done.”

“That may be so, but even so, I doubt I have seen a King work are diligently as you. To my understanding, Kings tend to also indulge in the luxuries of their status, with the finest drinks, food, and women. I see you do little of it, if at all.”

The flickers of the lanterns that guide their way catch Seto’s attention, and he resists the urge to scoff once more.

“Should it not be a good thing that I am not so hedonistic? I work to elevate Egypt to heights never seen before, is that such an unsatisfactory motivation?”

Isis hums, and Seto is glad when he sees the temple loom closer. Isis has always been far too insightful for his comfort. She often makes him feel as if his very soul was bare to her, and she was the one he always tended to avoid when she wielded the power of her future-seeing necklace.

“Normally, I would agree. However, I know that your work ethic comes from guilt and the desire for redemption for your past actions.”

Isis feels the very air grow icy around them, but her smile does not falter as she spares the Pharaoh beside her a glance, who refuses to meet her gaze as he crosses his arms in front of him.

“It is a noble motivation, Seto. Atem and everyone else would be proud of what you are doing. _I_ am proud of what you are doing.”

Seto huffs.

“I do not require your affirmation.”

Isis smiles knowingly, and decides to allow the matter to be settled before she unnerves the cold ad proud Pharaoh any further.

“Then, you will be pleased to know that we have found promising individuals that will fulfill the roles of serving you and the Gods. Mana herself has been leading their training, and Mahad would be proud of her maturity and dedication.”

Seto relaxes when their talk enters more familiar territory, more like the reports that he is used to reading than talks of his motivations and internal conflicts that Isis should not be privy to.

“Good. How have the people taken to returning worship to the Old Gods?”

While the brief period in which they had subjugated the monsters of the Shadow Realm had been fruitful in gaining a foothold in the world as a great military power, the events that lead to the unleashing of Zorc was reason enough to lock away the dangerous power that could mean the end of humanity. It had been Atem’s final act, and as such, Seto had promised to seal away all knowledge of the Shadow Realm, so that it would remain locked away and forgotten until fate and destiny decided otherwise.

“Egypt’s faith remains strong. We have taken care to pay homage to the Old Gods and to reclaim their roots away from the Shadow Realm. Ever since we returned to worship Egypt’s original Gods and the famine came to an end, the people believe it was the right thing to do. It was an effortless transition, thanks to your efforts. Of course, I still believe you should be more visible and interact with the people. I believe we are due for a festival.”

Seto sends Isis a reprimanding glare.

“For a High Priestess, you are exacting. Are you sure you do not wish to accept the offer to be my Vizier? You are certainly the only one with the intelligence and fortitude to hold such a title, and I am sure Mana would be more than capable of taking over as Head Priestess.”

Just as they reach the temple stairs, Isis smiles that knowing smile of hers that unnerves him.

“As flattered as I am, my pharaoh, I must respectfully decline. As I have said before, such a title is not mine to hold, but worry not, the one fated to rule beside you will soon make themselves known.”

Seto frowns. He has asked Isis several times to be his most trusted advisor. There is no one else that he can trust the way that he can her, and although she has always declined his offer, this is the first time that she has given him a cryptic reason for her refusal.

“You speak as if you still hold the power of the Millennium necklace... surely you are not speaking as if you can see the future without it.”

Isis remains at ease as they finally enter the temple.

“Do not forget, I am the High Priestess for a reason. My connection to the Gods is not delicate, my faith resilient and true.”

As they are greeted by the temple attendants who will begin the purification ritual so that they can properly enter and engage in prayer, Seto feels something like apprehension and curiosity rise in the wake of Isis’ words.

The one who is fated to rule beside him?

Is there truly such a person?

* * *

**Qatna, Mesopotamia**

Those that did not have the wealth of the merchants to rent a room in a tavern had opted to raise makeshift tents in a designated area in the outskirts of the city until their grand departure into the desert. After all, for most of the people that had recently taken to traveling to Egypt was not with the purpose of trade, but in search of land and jobs that they could not find back home. 

Despite their lack of wealth, the area that they occupied was lively as Gilgamesh approached. Several campsites occupied the designated area, and the flames flickered as smoke rose into the dark sky littered by the shining stars above.

Music and laughter filled the air as the people mingled and shared meals and drinks, as kids ran around and played amongst each other.

Although their arduous journey was far from over, one would not think that these people had traveled countless leagues or that they had a care in the world from the joy shining on their faces.

It was a marvel, truly, to be reminded that those who were powerless could also look so fulfilled.

It made something stir in Gilgamesh’s chest as he took in the scene silently.

As a King, his servants and attendant were always subdued around him. Even in times of celebration and banquets, the only way he could see his people in their true unfiltered states was when he was watching from afar. If he were to approach, it was as if the energy dissipated.

Back then, it had been empowering, to have such an effect on others.

Now however, he craved to experience the world through a different lens.

The ruthless tyrant that he had been only moons prior would scoff at the frivolities that he seems to have acquired after his trip through the underworld, yet he cannot find it in himself to be ashamed.

A group of children almost collide into him and smile apologetically before they carry on with their game.

As his gaze follows their movements, it was drawn to a lively campfire with a group of people in vibrant and exotic clothing. They were dancing around the fire as several instruments played unfamiliar tunes accompanied by even more unfamiliar chants.

Uruk was not devoid of music and dancing, but even he had to admit that it paled in comparison to the energy that surged from this small group of foreigners. Their movements were fluid and seamless as their feet and arms created a rhythm seemingly led by the tune of the music, and despite himself, Gilgamesh felt captivated and drawn into the sight and sound of it all.

It seemed that the group was comprised of both male and female dancers, each taking turns as if they were challenging the other through their movements. It was nothing short of a battle of dancers, and Gilgamesh found himself intrigued by the ferocity of it despite the absence of violence.

While the women’s movements were more fluid and delicate, and the males a bit more erratic and forceful, one did not seem to overshadow the other, rather, it was as if each complimented the other.

Two halves of the same whole.

Gilgamesh found that he could not even bring himself to take in the appearance of each dancer, his gaze more drawn to the movements of their hips, shoulders, arms, and legs as they continued to move in accordance to the dance that seemed to tell a story despite no words being involved.

He was proven correct when from each group a single dancer broke away, and as the pair danced their way to each other, their movements became one and an extension of the other. The rest of the dancers seemed to follow suit, and began to surround the two, until they were a unified group intermingled with the other, and the song and dance came to a sudden halt as each dancer fell ceremoniously and methodically to the floor.

There were cheers and claps from several onlookers, and only then did Gilgamesh notice how close he had ventured.

He is even more surprised when he finds himself lingering after a few more demonstrations.

And it seems he has not been overlooked.

“If you enjoy the entertainment, you should consider compensating us for it.”

Gilgamesh turns to the voice that has spoken to him and is met with bright gray eyes and long brown hair. Her clothing is revealing and appropriate for the heat, with a cropped yellow-orange tinged shirt below her ample chest, a slit wrap around skirt that reveals the entirety of one of her legs, and ornate pieces of cloth that attached to her wrist from her ruffled short sleeves.

It was certainly the outfit of an entertainer and dancer.

Still, her sudden appearance and interruption has caused some annoyance to flare up, and he scoffs as he regards her with a cool gaze.

“I do not see the need to pay, since any fool with legs can dance,” he replies.

Despite what was meant as an insult, the girl only smiles pleasantly as she regards him, and Gilgamesh frowns when she steps closer to him. There is a glint in her gray eyes that speaks of cunningness, and he is immediately on guard for any tricks she might have up her sleeves.

“Hm. Your handsome face is wasted on such arrogance... it is quite the shame. I was willing to accept compensation in ways other than coin... but now I am not so sure.”

There is a playful mirth in her words that speaks of anything except innocent intentions, and Gilgamesh scoffs at her shamelessness. Indeed, she might be gifted with a beautiful and alluring figure, but he has no interest in her offer.

“However, if you are willing to prove your words, perhaps I will change my mind.”

Gilgamesh raises an inquisitive eyebrow.

“Whatever do you mean?” he challenges, although he has an inkling of what she is implying.

Her smile is bright as she giggles.

“Why... dance with me, of course! Prove that any fool can dance.”

Gilgamesh considers how to turn her down most harshly but decides against it when he catches sight of a still dancing pair behind her.

He is certainly bored enough that he does not mind a new challenge, and perhaps it will be entertaining to watch the look on her face when he beats her at her own game.

“Very well, I accept your challenge, although a fool I am not.”

The girl’s smile only widens, and that cunning glint is back in her eyes.

“Good answer, not at a fool! My name is Mata Hari, but you can simply call me Hari. And you?” she asks, and her insolence only serves to annoy him even more.

“I do not easily give out my name. However… if I fail to dance to your expectation, then perhaps I will consider indulging you.”

Hari does not seem bothered by his condition, and only grabs him by the wrist before pulling him in the direction of the area where the dancers have momentarily cleared out while they take a break.

Yet he feels all eyes on them as soon as they claim the spot in the center and in front of the campfire they have started.

“Hello, everyone! It seems I have stumbled across someone who seems to think very little of our craft, even though we have spent so much of our life dedicated to dance.”

Now the heat of their gazes is stronger, but Gilgamesh remains the perfect image of a cool and collected where he stands.

“This man here says that any fool with legs can dance,” she continues to say dramatically, her hand draped across her forehead as if she is feeling faint.

There are clear shouts of outrage from the dancers, and Gilgamesh scoffs as he folds his arms in front of him.

“But he has agreed to take it back if he cannot prove his words and give us compensation!”

The cries of outrage turn to cheers at Hari’s words, and Gilgamesh clicks his tongue as he gives a sideway glance at the girl.

“I said no such thing.”

Hari only winks in his direction.

“Here is what we shall do. I will do a series of dance steps, and if you can match me, then maybe I shall believe you when you say anyone can dance.”

Gilgamesh looks unimpressed as he looks down at the girl.

“Very well... but if I am right... then _you_ shall compensate _me_ ,” Gilgamesh gives her one of his sinister smirks, and the petite girl surprises him when she only smiles warmly and tilts her head.

“I shall be happy to!”

Gilgamesh glowers. Honestly, it is less entertaining when she is so willing.

“Then, shall we begin?” he says, tapping his foot against the ground beneath him in an effort to loosen up his body.

Hari looks in the direction of the instrument players and gives a nod and subtle command with her hand. The small group seems to understand, and once more begin to create a similar tune.

“Do not worry stranger, I will take it easy on you.”

Gilgamesh hums.

“I appreciate your consideration.”

Hari only smiles sweetly.

As the music continues to play, Hari’s steps match its tune, and Gilgamesh recognizes the steps from one of the demonstrations he has just watched.

The steps are simple of course, as Hari said it would be, so no one is too impressed by Gilgamesh’s ability to follow suit.

“Good,” Hari compliments, “How about this?”

She adds a few more steps and even a few arm motions, and with an easy smile, Gilgamesh also manages to easily follow suit, and this time, her eyes narrow with apprehension.

“Well, looks like you _are_ good at copying.”

Gilgamesh does not respond, looking completely at ease as he stands comfortably and waits for Hari’s next demonstration.

His lack of a response seems to finally start to crack her well preserved façade, and her movements are just a bit stiffer as she now begins a more complex set of steps and twirls.

There are audible murmurs of confusion and awe as those around them watch the display, as they watch this foreign blonde man easily replicate the movements of one of their best dancers as if it was a common chore.

Hari frowns when once again the blonde stranger is able to easily follow suit. There was no way he should have been able to dance like she could, unless he had been lying about his skill to begin with…

Well… if that was the case, then she would show him not to undermine her.

“Hmph. I see pretty boy, no more games!”

Those watching them were now cheering as Hari took her dancing to the next level, as she displayed her skill with passion and determination. There was no way this foreigner would be able to match her display, the calculative and fluid motions of her feet, hips, and arms as they painted a captivating picture of grace and beauty.

When she comes to a stop, she looks at Gilgamesh with a proud smirk on her face and a glint of challenge in her eyes.

Despite the display of skill, Gilgamesh still does not look the least bit nervous or concerned.

“Most impressive. I must commend your skill, Mata Hari. I should also apologize for my rude remarks earlier. In all honesty, your group’s display of skill is amongst the highest level of talent in your art that I have seen in a very long time.”

Hari’s cheeks are noticeably tinted with pink at Gilgamesh’s compliment, but she seems to shake off the flattery as she places a hand on her hip and her grin widens.

“Is that your way of saying you back down?” she asks.

The musicians have paused as they talk, so that everyone close enough can hear their conversation.

Gilgamesh chuckles, his red eyes sharp.

“Unfortunately for you, I do not back down from challenges, and I do not lose. No matter the task, I will always complete it and rise victorious.”

Hari scowls again.

“Very well then, show me you are more than just talk.”

Gilgamesh’s grin widens, and he points to the musicians with a flick of his wrist.

“You all, do not cease your playing, I am not finished.”

At the command, the music begins to play once more, and the air is different as everyone sets their gaze on Gilgamesh.

“Now then… marvel at my superiority.”

To their amazement, Gilgamesh is not only able to copy the exact movements that Hari did, but he does so with added flare and his own movements that nevertheless look familiar to them. He has managed to combine not only Hari’s movements, but the movements that they have shown through the dances from their earlier demonstrations.

They are captivated by him, by the fluid movements and transitions with each step and twirl. But it is more than the movements that are mesmerizing, it is the energy emanating from the man. The easy smile on his lips never falters, and it is as if time itself has stopped, and even the moon and stars have stopped in their trek across the sky to witness the demonstration.

When he comes to an elegant stop, the camp is silent as they take in his figure. He has his hands crossed in front of him, one splayed hand pointed downward while the other is splayed up next to his face. One foot directly in front of the other. As he opens his eyes, the red tint is amplified by the light of the fire behind him.

And as if a silent command was given, those around him burst into loud cheers and applause.

With a victorious grin, Gilgamesh turns towards Hari, who looks back at him wide-eyed, her gray orbs shining brightly.

“Now, how was that for a show?” he asks.

To his lack of surprise, Hari bursts into delighted laughter.

“That was amazing! Just who are you? You must be this land’s most talented dancer!”

Gilgamesh huffs as he runs his fingers through his golden locks.

“As it turns out, that was my first time dancing. It was surprisingly enjoyable.”

“What?!”

“Impossible!”

“You must be joking!”

Gilgamesh smirks at the outcries of disbelief.

“It is hardly surprising. There is simply nothing that I cannot do.”

More outcries and now the group of dancers are converging around him.

“Join us! We could use talent like yours!”

“Our lead male dancer recently passed away, please consider taking his place!”

Gilgamesh contemplates the group of dancers with interest.

Indeed, he had been considering how to best join the caravan, and this would make the matter easy. Not to mention, he likes the reverence in their eyes at his skill. It was fitting of his superiority.

“Hm. Very well. My destination is also Egypt, it would be most beneficial to have fellow companions for the journey ahead.”

There is a chorus of cheers at his response from the crowd around him, and even Hari looks pleased by his answer.

“Well then, can you tell us your name? We simply cannot accept a nameless stranger to our group.”

Gilgamesh blinks at the request. He has managed to avoid giving out a name to anyone throughout his entire journey, and despite the false persona he has created, he never considered an alias. It was indeed an achievement, and he was not yet willing to end his personal fun.

An alias then… he closes his eyes, and a pensive atmosphere surrounds him for only a moment before they snap open to reveal a satisfied glint as he snaps his fingers.

“You may call me Gal. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance fellow travelers, and I look forward to the journey ahead.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm trying my best to make Gil still be his arrogant self while still showing some growth and maturity from his trip to the underworld and his pain from losing and Enkidu and boy... let me tell you that's pretty hard to balance.
> 
> Also, I'll introduce the rest of the dancing group and swords for hire next chapter!


End file.
